


Intermission

by Delta_Immortal



Series: Legends [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Admiration of body hair, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Cowgirl Position, Creepy!Ennis, Creepy!Kali, Derek Hale abs, Did I mention no angst, Established Relationship, Facial, Fail sex, Fluff, Happy Ending, Lots of Sex, M/M, Nobody Dies, Sex, Top!Derek, alpha!Derek, attempted dirty talking that ends in spectacular fails, dirty talking, facial shot, fantasy!au, foot-in-mouth Scott, handjobs, medieval!au, minimal angst, oil lamps, public baths, reverse planks, second!stiles, secret hints about the next fic, still fluff though, true alpha!scott, waiting for lover to show up, werewolf!jackson, wet!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1876989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Immortal/pseuds/Delta_Immortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere there's a legend about how the great Stiles Stilinski stole Alpha Derek Hale’s heart and helped Derek win the war against Kate Argent.</p><p>Somewhere there's a legend about how the McCall pack rose to power, becoming the mightiest pack and aligning with banshees, foxes, and hunters to fight the terrible Alpha Pack. </p><p>This story lies between those legends, a peaceful time between two lovers as they enjoy the other's embrace. (And cocks. There’s a lot of cock enjoyment.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermission

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I needed to write some fluff. 
> 
> This fic takes place in my Legends Universe; though I don’t think it will affect the story overall (the story is basically how soon can Stiles and Derek have sex), it might explain a couple of sad glances or strange behaviors between characters.
> 
> In the Hale Hierarchy, for those who don't want to read 100,000+ words to enjoy a smutfic, Laura is the Head Alpha, and Derek is her second. Cora is currently living with the McCall pack as a guest. Cora is not an alpha.

“It’s storming,” Stiles complained as he attempted to swing his leg over the saddle. His left leg only managed to hit the horse on its side, a sad display of how unaccustomed he was still to Roscoe. He swung his leg again, still not able to get over the horse, and looked pitifully at Scott to come help him.

Unfortunately, his alpha didn’t pay him any attention. Scott and Jackson were too busy discussing something between themselves. Stiles huffed, using his left hand to try and guide his leg over the saddle. Yet again he wasn’t able to quite make the arc, ending up in an awkward hump as he tried to generate enough lift to swing his leg over. As he finally succeeded, Stiles looked around proudly.

No one was paying him attention. Even though they struggled more with horses than he did. They were all _werewolves_ , running slightly faster and longer than a horse at any given time.

“It’s storming,” he repeated pitifully. He would be wet. And there might be lightning. This was not worth a meeting of all the kingdoms surrounding the Hales. The McCall pack wasn’t even a kingdom. They shouldn't have to go

“We have to go,” Scott reminded him as lightning darted overhead, doing nothing to ease Stiles nerves. “All the surrounding leaders will be at this meeting place. It’s figuring out angles and meeting foxes and using your words. You’ll love it.” He looked over at Stiles for emphasis, handing something to Jackson.

Stiles looked up at the sky as thunder rumbled overhead, wind moving the trees around them. “We can go up the mountain when there isn’t lightning,” he suggested. “Or maybe let the weak human stay _here_ , as a _second_ , protecting his pack.”

“Shut it, Stilinski,” Jackson scolded. “You don’t even _feel_ pack the same way.”

Stiles mouthed Jackson’s words back at him before looking back to Scott. “I don’t like this. Storms. Meeting of all the major leaders. I mean, this is the perfect place for an assassination, right? All-powerful leaders, all together? Like, what if Kate comes back from the dead or something? And she kills all of us?”

Jackson shook his head as Stiles trailed off.  “Allison would stop her,” Scott informed them somewhat dreamily. “Just like she did on the battlefield during the war.”

Stiles stopped, thinking about whether or not it would be worth it to get Scott started on Allison. If Scott started talking, there was a good chance the storm would pass them by before they got started, leaving less Stilinski to act as a lightning rod.

“So how did that happen, exactly? I have yet to hear the wonders of Allison, battle-queen.” He waggled his eyebrows invitingly, hoping Scott would rise to the bait. Jackson rolled his eyes but Stiles was too pleased at the sight of Scott opening his mouth to tell his tales of Allison.

Cora was the one who ruined it for him. “I don’t want to hear a peep about _any_ of your lovers on this trip,” she spoke, scaring the shit out of Stiles but somehow not his horse. She  eyed Stiles suspiciously as she walked up beside them, checking to make sure the saddle was on correctly.

“Why are you looking at me?” Stiles crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“Last time you saw Derek, you both fucked on the meeting room table within minutes of seeing each other,” she answered coolly. “Before that, when Derek visited us last, your shrieks kept my soldiers awake.”

A grin broke out on Stiles’s face as he remembered that time. “Yeah. That was great.”

Cora gave him a dirty glare in return.

Stiles shrugged. “It’ll be good to see your family again?” he offered. Cora kept glaring, as if to ask, _Do you even know why we’re going to this meeting, Stilinski_? Stiles continued. “I mean, after all, it’ll be good to know our neighbors and make a few allies. Especially since Laura dispersed so much of her power after the war.”

Cora nodded in acceptance. “I’m glad you’ve been paying attention,” she uttered, looking at Scott.

Scott waved sheepishly, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “We were really busy with harvest! And rebuilding! And it’s not like we knew that the river was home to a wild, unknown pack-“

“Which I entrapped,” Stiles added.

“-Which Stiles entrapped, and we got the river back, so hurray?” Scott offered, hands up in the air.

Jackson moved to check on the second horse, making sure all the supplies were set and ready, that it wouldn’t chafe the horse for the half-day journey. Cora continued to glare at Scott.

“We made spoons during Sambra,” Scott contributed pitifully. Cora turned to him fully, and Stiles mimed fangs behind her.

“And- and our numbers have grown,” the true alpha added quickly. “We’ve got like fifty wolves now, and so many people have come back home. It’s a community again.” Stiles gave him a thumbs up and Scott gave a smile.

The Hale princess was satisfied. “As the leader, you need to be more careful,” she scolded. “And you, Stiles,” she said, catching Stiles in his thumbs-up, “need to stop fucking Derek long enough to pay attention to what's going on around you.”

“We don’t always fuck,” Stiles deflected. “Sometimes there’s just touching or hickies or exploration-“

“I do not need to hear this,” Jackson yelled behind him. “I don’t want to hear it when we get to the castle, Stilinski, I don’t want to hear it now, and I certainly didn’t want to hear it two months ago.”

Stiles sighed, slumping in his seat. What were they waiting for, anyway? “At least you’ll be occupied when we get there.” A crowd of people were starting to form outside the stable, and Scott and Cora moved to talk to Danny. Good old Danny. He’d be in charge while they were away.

“I don’t have a lover,” Jackson protested and Stiles scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. “I don’t.”

“Dude, she specifically asked you to come,” Stiles argued. “I mean, the Martin family did well for themselves during the war time. They even got some of Laura’s land, that’s how well they’ve done. She could be with anyone, and yet she asked specifically for you to come. She still wants you, dude.”

Cora walked back, extra cloaks in her hand. It wouldn’t be nearly as long as the journey to the Hale Dome, but with the rain pouring as it was they would need the extra cloaks. This castle was less than half a day’s walk/ride for them, in a neutral territory that was once owned by the Hales, now claimed by the Foxes. Not that they had seen the Foxes.

“You don’t know that,” Jackson argued though he looked somewhat relieved. Jackson had a point- Lydia Martin might have requested his presence only to show how well she had done for herself the entire time. Still, though Lydia was evil, she wasn’t totally evil. Maybe only seventy percent or so.

“She wouldn’t do that to you, dude,” Stiles affirmed. Never had he thought he’d be encouraging Jackson to go after Lydia. He remembered before the war, before they’d been captured as Hale slaves, and watching Jackson just demand she spend her time with him. They’d even chased Stiles up a tree together, Stiles remembered. He petted Roscoe in hopes the horse would understand his telepathic messages to maybe bite Jackson’s butt on their trip.

Cora growled behind them, getting impatient. “Almost ready, Alpha,” she announced, which in Cora speak meant, _We should have left minutes ago_. Scott jumped, hastily moving to help her pack the last of the cloaks and provisions. Stiles and Jackson were left alone for a moment, gazing at the crowd of people building in front of the stables.

Many had come in the spring- after surviving the cold winter in Hale territory, they’d returned to the freed Beacon hills. The McCall pack had ensured their homes were rebuilt. Maybe not perfectly rebuilt (Stiles had narrowly avoided a collapsing roof), but there were homes for everyone returning.

They had about a fifty wolves in their keep, now, a full-fledged pack full of leaders and sub-leaders and all that nonsense, with their own homes to boot. It wasn’t as big as great as the Hale pack, which could proclaim hundreds or maybe even thousands of members depending on if the guards counted as part of the pack. Fifty members was enough, however, enough to keep splinter Argent groups from attacking, or to keep unwanted packs away.

Danny opened the doors for them, and they headed out, ignoring the clapping and waving as they took off. Stiles caught Melissa’s eyes as he waved. She looked so proud of what they’d done- reclaimed and rebuilt their town after the Argents had conquered it and burned it to the ground. Or that they were leaders, now, or that they had pushed to end the abysmal practices of slavery that were tradition to the Hale pack.

She smiled at him as thunder clasped overhead, and Stiles smiled back, sadness eating at his heart. He didn’t often see Melissa these days- it hurt too much for either of them to talk. Roscoe kept moving forward and he pressed on, aware of Finstock shouting some sort of speech as they moved onto the road.

Jackson picked up on his sadness, moving to the side of the horse and angling his mouth up at Stiles’s ear. Something honest and meaningful lay behind the wolf’s eyes. Stiles inherently didn’t trust it.

“You going to be okay meeting him in a castle, Stilinski?” The way Jackson said it almost made him seem concerned, which was unsettling in a completely different way.

“I might not be,” Stiles replied honestly, thinking it over. He had yet to meet with Derek in a castle again. Meetings had been in tents or in small makeshift buildings or meeting buildings in towns but never in castles.

Promptly deciding that was too much of a heart-to-heart with Jackson, Stiles continued. “But then I think of all the loud sex we’ll be having without having to worry about you listening in and I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.”

Jackson made a face and moved back to the rear of the group. Scott chose that moment to pick up the pace, and Stiles nudged Roscoe into a trot.

 

***

 

It wasn’t even a castle, really. It was an old fort, with hundreds of escape exits, made for these kinds of meetings and get-togethers. The group crossed over a bridge on the path towards the fort, looking at the long and steep trail ahead on the side of the mountain. Stiles was glad he had a horse. At least he wouldn’t be a mess climbing up to that fort. He might be wet but the wolves were already muddy and dirty.

On the upside, at least they could see the fort now. And the lighting had passed. Scott stepped forward, body poised and ready so address the entire group.

“Do…Do you think she’ll remember me?” Scott asked as he gestured at the fort.

Cora groaned in front of him, betraying what Jackson and Stiles were trying to keep inside. “I’m going to go ahead, give them the message that we’ve arrived,” she decided. “I’ll be placed with the Hale pack while we’re here, of course. The servants will lead you to your rooms.” She took off immediately after finishing the words, not bothering to run the length of the trail. Instead she jumped from switchback to switchback, making it up the mountain in seconds.

Scott opened his mouth to speak but Jackson slammed his hand across it in an instant. “No more, McCall,” the wolf hissed, also fed up. Scott looked at Stiles for help.

The entire trip had been filled with Scott talking about Allison. About how sad she was when Victoria died. About how she pointed her weapon at her aunt, demanding Kate back off and renounce any claim to the Argent name during one of the battles. About how her favorite food was deer, just like Scott’s.

“No can do, buddy,” Stiles apologized, petting his horse. “Let’s just try and get there in one piece, yeah?”

The rain had turned the dirt to mud, and the going was slow. By the time they had entered the fort, servants were already waiting for them. “Mister Stilinski,” one spoke, bowing as Stiles attempted as gracefully as possible to dismount without dislocating his ankle. He acknowledged the servant, glancing over at Scott and Jackson who were not looking at his embarrassing dismount.

The servant helped him down, continuing. “I’ll show you to your chambers, where you can rest and freshen up.” the servant explained, undisturbed by the amount of water dripping from Stiles’s clothes. “Your things will be brought to your room. After you refresh, there will be a small, informal dinner provided for all guests.”

Lies. No meeting these leaders would ever be informal. Stiles nodded his understanding, wondering if he could go ahead and just sneak to Derek’s room and get the fucking out of the way before dinner. He wondered if Derek had shaved again, or if his muscles had gotten any bigger since last time, or if this time Derek wasn’t going to take his sweet time teasing Stiles until Stiles was begging beneath him-

“And our apologies,” The servant continued, talking to all three men at this point, “The Hales have been delayed. There was an incident they needed to investigate. Right now Lady Cora is the only Hale member present.”

The second hid his frown, following the servant down a long hall. Scott nodded at the servants words, almost as if expecting it. “That explains why I couldn’t sense another alpha here,” he added.

Stiles shot him a look. Scott looked back. “What?” he demanded, defensive.

“Since when can you do that?” Stiles demanded, a little miffed. “Nobody told me you could do that.” He rolled his eyes. “No wonder I could never get Derek to sneak up on you.”

“Didn’t have to sneak up on me,” Scott retorted. “Creepy man does that on his own. Just stands there, somberly- ‘Is Stiles here?’ ‘Where is Stiles?’ ‘How soon do you think I can fuck Stiles into-‘“

The servant turned to a dark wooden door and pressed it open, revealing a large common area for them to share. “Derek would never say ‘fuck’ to you,” Stiles kept arguing. “He would use ‘ravish’, thank you very much.”

Jackson muttered something darkly behind them. On the other hand, the servant looked like he was going to have a field day with the information, barely repressing a smirk. “In these chambers, there is one shared bath, much like the ones found in the Hale Dome. The lamps in the bath are to always be lit, and will always be on low for you.”

The men nodded, all carefully eying the door to the bath. The servant continued. “We have a small pan in the opposite room for your relief,” he added cautiously. “I’m sorry but this fort was not designed for wolf noses. We’ll try and empty it as often as possible, but…”

“It’s fine,” Scott assured him. “We’ve had worse.”

The servant lead them to the common area, taking each man into their room- starting with Scott, and then Jackson, leaving each to get ready. Finally, he turned to Stiles.

“This way, please,” he began, and opened a door to a very basic room with minimal pillows and decoration. It looked a little bit more sloppy than Stiles had expected but he said nothing.

“We were told to prepare it, just in case,” the servant informed Stiles, “and I’m glad we did.” 

Stiles looked over at him. “In case what?” Quickly he started putting the pieces together. Derek had probably been the one who arranged the beds. Stiles felt annoyance flare up as he realized what Derek had probably said.

The servant looked sheepish. “In case… Lord Hale would not arrive tonight. He still may,” the servant added quickly. “But it is a tiring run, and he’s coming ahead of Alpha Hale.” 

Stiles ignored the information, still focused on the fact that the bed was a “Just in case” bed. “He assumed I’d be sleeping in his bed.” He couldn’t keep his voice calm. This was a delicate situation here. It would be unfair of any of the representatives to spend time in each other’s company. They had work to do, and their own packs to represent. What was Derek thinking?

“Yes, sir.” The voice was cautiously backing away.

Stiles shook his head. He probably would have done the same if he had hosted such a meeting. “Not angry at you,” Stiles assured the servant, “but if Lord Hale arrives, please tell him to take his assumptions and stuff it.”

Fuck, maybe Derek could sneak in his bed for once. Even though maybe he did that all the time when he came to visit the pack. Or when Stiles was out working. Or anytime, really.

Still, Stiles wasn’t completely comfortable being a weak human, wandering the halls of a Hale fortress at night. Too many familiar memories.

A couple of women knocked on the door, two with his things and one with coals for a fire. Stiles nodded and the male servant left, leaving the ladies to help him unpack. One woman opened the side table and shut it with a bang, blushing profusely as she apologized, moving back to unpacking Stiles’s clothes.

Curious, Stiles opened the drawer. As his eyes looked over the items, the earlier frustrations melted away. Clearly Derek had been prepared to visit him, if an enema bag and the jar of lubricant were any indication.

 

 

***

 

When they got to the dinner, others were already sitting and talking- a disadvantage, to be sure, but Stiles recognized some of them. There was a buffet in the middle of the room with small groups of seats in each corner, enough that guests could mingle freely and not worrying about who would play host. As Stiles scanned the room, he realized Cora had yet to arrive.

The servant announced them and those seated turned to face the McCall representatives. Eyes took them in, judging their worth as allies or enemies. _It feels like brutal world before me_ , Stiles thought. He’d have to step up his game.

Some faces he recognized; Chris and Allison, though he hoped to not talk to them at all during this several day conference, Kali and Ennis, warlords and pack leaders of much smaller packs allied with the Hales, and Lydia Martin. Most of the people there Stiles knew through his time as a slave, either serving them or, in the Argent’s case, freeing them.

Lydia gave them a short glance before turning back to a younger Japanese woman. Jackson stiffened behind Stiles. Stiles felt sorry for him. Lydia was decked out in finery. She wore combination of a ball gown and pantaloons, while her hair was laced with silk and jewels. A marker of a banshee on her chest, worn with pride by how far she had puffed out her chest.

Stunning. Lydia sparkled before him here exactly as she sparkled in his memory. Stiles gave a soft smile. He was glad that the war hadn’t seemed to change her at all. He left the Argents to Scott, nodding at Chris as he tugged Jackson towards Lydia. Their alpha sat down cautiously next to Allison, as if he were afraid the cushion might explode. Scott began chattering uselessly about the weather, something about how maybe Allison must have been really wet and-

The room died down suddenly as both Stiles and Jackson attempted to hide their faces. “Good going McCall,” Jackson hissed behind Stiles.

Scott should never be allowed in politics. Never. Stiles began analyzing the windows, debating if there was one the pack might be able to escape through.

The second scanned the room. Chris did not look impressed but Kali and Ennis were highly amused. “You’ve got balls, McCall,” Kali applauded, raising a glass in Scott’s honor.

Only then did Scott realize what he had said, face turning bright red. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he cried out, waving his hands in front of him. Stiles was tempted to help. Before he could react, Allison placed a hand on Scott’s shoulder and calmed him down. No offense had been taken.

 _Sweet girl, Allison,_ Stiles thought and headed to Lydia.

The banshee knew he was coming, and she turned to welcome the two McCall pack members into her private conversation. “Kira,” she began, “These are members of the McCall tribe.”

“I’m Stilinski, Second,” Stiles began, holding out his hand. Kira took it, shaking. Her eyes glowed slightly more orange than gold, and Stiles realized she was a fox. All right. “I understand we’re neighbors,” he added, slipping into a chair next to her.

“We are,” Kira agreed. “I hope in the future we’ll be able to be good friends. Isolation, while sometimes necessary, always is tough on our people.”

“And ourselves,” Lydia added, butting into their conversation. “This is Jackson Whittemore. He’s Scott’s third man, and second wolf.”

Kira shook his hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You are the one who stole Derek’s heart?”

Stiles groaned while Jackson made a sour face, sitting next to Lydia. “That was me,” Stiles answered for Jackson. “I’m a _human_ second, but I’m uh… yeah. It’s complicated.” He scratched the back of his head. “Jackson here has always been head over heels for-“

“Shut it, Stilinski,” Jackson barked. Stiles grinned despite it. Given how Lydia gave a second glance to Jackson, a softer glance Stiles had longed to see directed at him in his youth, Stiles knew she’d be demanding Jackson to visit her later that night.

Kali headed towards them while Ennis moved towards Chris and Scott. A servant leapt into view, offering a glass of wine to the group. Stiles took it, thinking about his old job. _How the tables have turned_ , he thought. Unsurprisingly, Jackson did not partake of the wine.

Kali joined, pulling up a chair next to Stiles, seated more at an angle than directly across from him. “I’m pleased to see you made it,” she said, sizing the second up. “Your help was such a boon during the Crisis. And with the bandits recently as well. It would have been a shame if they’d found your group.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if she was mocking him or genuinely praising him, and even Lydia didn’t seem to know, either, given her face. In doubt, he decided to be polite about it. “It was much more of Laura’s forces, and Derek,” he admitted. “I’ve not heard about the bandits, though.”

“I’ve been talking about them with Scott,” came Cora’s voice. She leaned behind Jackson’s chair, not wanting to sit. _She cleaned up nicely,_ Stiles thought as he looked at her dress. Cora did look slightly uncomfortable but that made sense, given her job was battle commander or war leader or whatever the Hales called generals.

“A real shame. Sudden attacks in the middle of the night, all along the Hale supply line.” Kali leaned back against her chair, sighing. “Poor Laura. Nothing seems to be going her way, does it?”

That was a very pointed attack. Cora’s eyes narrowed.

“And yet she’s tripled her support from citizens,” Lydia interrupted, making her allegiances known. “And done well with managing her lands despite her limited amount of governing body to control them.”

Kali did not seem impressed but she eyed Cora and kept her mouth shut.

“Have there been any attacks outside of Hale trading routes?” Stiles asked in an attempt to change the subject. Kali shook her head.

“Not in our lands. We have the occasional bandits but nothing like what I’ve heard attacking the Hales. It’s been visceral. No man left alive.” Kali took a long look at Cora, her claws extended. Stiles had been around enough wolves to know it was a challenge but Stiles couldn’t read what it was for.

Kira also seemed uncomfortable. “Tell me, Miss Kira,” Stiles abruptly blurted out. Kira gladly followed the change, her body turning to listen to his question. “Have you come by yourself?”

Kira shook her head. “No. My mother has also come, but she’s been feeling… a bit under the weather,” she continued. “The journey was not so easy on her.”

“But easy on you,” Lydia inquired, giving Kira an approving smile.

Kira smiled, holding up her hand. Little bolts of lightning flashed through her palm. “I’m not afraid of thunderstorms,” she explained. Stiles nodded his understanding. If he could make lightning, he would also not be afraid. Foxes. Banshees. Wolves. What an assorted group of supernaturals.

He looked over at Chris and Allison, the only other humans here. Both of them were busy talking about how sad it was to cremate Kate’s body, and how in hunter tradition they spread her ashes over water and mountain.

Stiles turned back to the conversation at hand.

The group had sort of dispersed its attention. Cora and Kira were talking about different sorts of ways to use lightning in battle. _Of course they were_. Jackson and Lydia were talking to themselves. Kali gave him a look and crooked a finger at him, summoning him away towards where she and Ennis had been earlier.

Stiles stood up and followed, knowing if she made a move both Jackson and Scott would be on her in a second. And probably hidden guards in the walls. If Derek could plan lubricant in his bedroom, Derek probably had doubled guards just to watch out for Stiles.

She sat in one of the lounging chairs, and patted the seat for Stiles to do the same. He followed suit while trying to keep his expression pleasant.

“You seem well,” she started. “Not as scrawny as when I last saw you.”

Stiles ignored the wine in his cup, swishing it around awkwardly. “Not being a slave does that,” he explained easily, hoping she’d forgive a little bit of sass. It wasn’t pointed at her, and he could point it at Laura if need be.

Luckily, the she-wolf did not take offense. Instead, Kali offered him a patronizing smile. “Even a favored slave?” she inquired. Stiles felt his gaze go cold.

“A slave is still a slave,” he answered with finality, and Kali nodded, accepting his answer. Damn. Frustration itched underneath his skin. He wished she would have said something more so he could argue with her. She’d outsmarted him by dropping the topic with practiced grace and ease.

“And I’ve heard the reclaiming of the river is largely thanks to your efforts,” she continued. “You’ve made a most excellent second.”

Stiles didn’t like her tone; something in it reminded him too much of Peter. “I did it for my friends,” Stiles replied warmly, hoping it would help him not seem completely aloof tonight. “For my pack. Any member would have done the same.”

“If they could have,” Kali agreed, shooting a side-glance at Ennis.

Unable to read her expression, Stiles decided it was best to change the subject as quickly as he could. “How is your own pack? Has your second come with you?”

Kali’s eyes went dark for a moment before she laughed, leaning forward in her chair. “I wish they could have. We are not so big as Laura’s pack, or your own,” she added. “So I had to leave my second in case the bandits change their mind.” Eyes going dark for a moment, she continued. “It was hard, leaving them,” she said, and Stiles had the feeling she was being even more honest in this moment than he could grasp, though he couldn’t say why. “Ultimately, it was worth it,” she told him.

Ennis sat down next to them. “I have the same feelings,” he continued. “Nothing is more… liberating than when you have a strong pack.”

Stiles nodded his agreement, having a sinking feeling that something bad was being hinted at. He didn’t like their looks, how they were studying him, analyzing him. Politics, he supposed, and shrugged. “That’s true,” he agreed, setting his wine down. Both of them had forward body language- aggressive, eager, but for what Stiles couldn’t tell.

“It’s lucky you’re such a strong human,” Kali continued. “Able to use and break wolfsbane and mountain ash at will.”

“Any human can, really,” Stiles deflected. “One of the uses of being human. Maybe the only use.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Like an emissary,” Ennis agreed. Kali winced, next to him. Stiles shrugged and hoped she didn’t notice that he had noticed. “I’m not… I don’t think I’m magically inclined, like Deaton. He’s trained from a really young age. Like, crazy young. He told me about it.”

Ennis reached over for Kali’s hand and squeezed it. “Does your pack have an emissary yet?” Ennis inquired before Stiles could answer. “I say this only because as one alpha to another pack, they are quite useful. And good advisors in time of trouble.”

Stiles thought for a moment. He didn’t want to give anything away- Deaton had suggested a different emissary for their pack. Ennis and Kali were well enough connected to Laura that they would already know the situation. That fact, plus their werewolf abilities, meant lying was out of the question. “Unfortunately, we’re still connected with Deaton right now. Perhaps soon we’ll have our own.”

Kali seemed relieved at his answer.  She leaned back a bit in her chair, and that small movement revealed how claustrophobic Stiles had been seconds ago. “So tell me, were you as disappointed as I to hear Derek isn’t coming tonight?”

The question was baited, a slight jab from her tone at their relationship. Stiles refused to bite, however. “Less sex for us, I guess,” he sighed, and Ennis nearly choked, not comfortable with where this was going. “But I’m looking forward to seeing him, yes.” Kali drank her wine again in amusement, and Stiles gave her a humorless smile.

He would be very glad to have Derek’s support through this bullshit indeed. Even if it was just to fuck Derek with his eyes and watch Derek attempt to be formal while Stiles made obscene gestures with his hands and ran his feet up Derek’s legs in official meetings.

Good times were ahead.

 

***

 

It did not surprise Stiles when he was the only person remaining in the McCall pack common room later that night. Jackson had waved him goodbye earlier, more pep in his step than Stiles had seen in years. The human was quite confident Jackson would return the next day more of a jackass than before.

Scott hadn’t even come back at all but Stiles wasn’t going to inquire after him and get in the way of what he had going with Allison. Chris would probably be doing all he could to keep them apart. Though, given how interested Allison seemed, it would be a hopeless business. Stiles glanced into Scott’s room from his chair, noting the very much more luxurious and comfortable bed. The human might be crashing there for the night if Scott didn’t come back.

The clock chimed, jarring Stiles out of his reading. He had missed the first few rings. It might have been ten. Or eleven. Or midnight. After a long glance at the door, Stiles sighed and got up, moving to the dresser table in his own room. He pulled out the enema bag, still hopeful, and found his nightclothes, carrying them all to the bath.

Derek might not come tonight but damned if Stiles wouldn’t be ready for him. Every time they met they managed to find time for sex.

 

***

 

Without Scott or Jackson to keep him company, the bath felt incredibly boring. The chatter of home died underneath the echoes of water sloshing around. As the warmth seeped into his bones, his thoughts turned back to earlier times in Hale baths, both good and bad. In the slave quarters there had been constant chatter, though he hadn’t really participated- he was too busy cleaning in order to gain those precious moments of sleep before exploring the castle late at night. And then in Derek’s private bath, there had been a waterfall, always bubbling and streaming, something to listen to as Derek kissed him senseless.

Stiles bit his lip. New times, he reminded himself. Now baths were often wet cloth only but that was okay, too. Freedom for luxury. The second preferred it that way.

He continued to lounge in the bath for a while, passing the time to ensure his cleanliness. The water never cooled, and Stiles was glad of it. Tomorrow he’d thank the servants in charge of the fire for their service, using little coins and herbs as gifts.

After a while, Stiles noted his fingers resembled prunes a little too well for his liking. He’d been in a little too long.

Eventually, he dressed himself (maybe used the lube a little) and made it to the sofa, reading some of Cora’s notes in the soft lamplight. The clock struck again: Midnight. It was time for Stiles to head to bed. He glanced back at the door, hoping once more to see his lover sneaking in.

Nothing moved. Probably as soon as he got into bed Derek would sneak in, wake him up, demand sex. It wouldn’t matter if Derek had been running the entire day. Derek liked to keep Stiles close, to watch Stiles come undone.

The human closed up the notes, turning down the lamps in the common room and took a portable lamp to his bedroom. Already in his nightclothes, he turned down the lamp, extinguishing the flame, and crawled into the soft covers. Laying down he listened for the door, still hoping that Derek would crawl up next to him.

Nothing.

Sighing, he turned over, wrapping the blankets around him. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe Derek was too exhausted, and they did have important matters to discuss. Maybe Derek would wait for Laura to arrive safely before-

The floorboards squeaked, and Stiles’s breath caught. Dripping echoed on the wooden floor, a clear sign of someone who had been out in the rain. Strong hands pushed at his form on the edge of the bed.

Stiles grinned.

“Scoot over,” the dripping man commanded, continuing to petulantly push at him.

“You’re wet,” Stiles complained, not moving.

“It’s raining,” Derek countered, still pushing. It was more play than power, though, given that as a werewolf Derek could pretty much lift Stiles up with his pinky.

Stiles ignored that. “You’re too late. I’ve already jacked off in bed. Tryst over, see you in the morning.” He rolled over, watching as Derek attempted not to smell the bed for the truth. There wasn’t even moonlight tonight to help Stiles see but still somehow the water glistened off Derek in the dark, lighting up Derek’s scowling face.

Before he knew it Stiles found himself on his knees, hands reaching for Derek’s cheeks as he pressed their mouths together. Derek made a pleased sound, and Stiles could _feel_ the worry drain away from the wolf’s muscles as he relaxed, hands on Stiles’s hips, drawing the human in closer. Water soaked into Stiles’s nightclothes but the human paid it no mind, far more concerned with the moisture in Derek’s mouth.

Derek was gentle, pulling away and peppering his face in soft, loving kisses. The human laughed, placing a gentle kiss on Derek’s nose, both of them looking at each other in the darkness, their hearts close to bursting.

It was too romantic. “You should still bathe, though.” Stiles could feel Derek sag from exhaustion. The words were true. While Stiles liked the way Derek smelled when he was sweaty, some sort of musk, deep and rich, right now Derek had been running for just a little too long, just a little past ripe.

“Fine,” the alpha allowed, pulling away from Stiles’s grabby hands. “No one else is here with you tonight?” he asked, head scanning around, listening to the other rooms. He seemed surprised, though Stiles was glad he didn’t have to do the formal, “Hey, Alpha, it’s my lover, we’re going to fuck now” speech required by werewolf etiquette law.

Stiles shook his head. “We’re clearly masters of diplomacy,” he confessed. Derek raised an eyebrow before shaking his head into a grin, letting his confusion fade under the contentment he held by merely _standing_ in front of Stiles. Stiles’s heart swelled; he knew his face had an equally stupid looking grin on it as well.

He had missed Derek.

“I’ll be back shortly,” Derek informed him, stripping out of his clothes. Gracelessly the lord dumped his clothes on the floor. Stiles’s eyebrows raised up in interest as his eyes took in the muscular form before him, reaching over for the lamp so he could see better. As he lit the wick Derek flashed his eyes, clearly amused by Stiles’s arousal. In Stiles’s defense, the shadows flickering over Derek’s hips were more than a little stimulating.

Fucking Derek now would be worth the musk radiating from the wolf, Stiles decided. His eyes continued to eat up the sight of Derek, and given how Derek shifted his weight forward and puffed out his chest, Derek approved of Stiles’s shameless ogling.

“Don’t get started without me,” Derek teased, voice low. All the times he’d heard that voice ran through his mind in an instant, and Stiles’s body shivered in anticipation.

Stiles shrugged, trying to give Derek his best innocent look despite knowing his scent was betraying him in this moment. “I might have already started,” he uttered lowly, trying to sound seductive.

It sounded stupid instead. He was pretty sure his voice cracked while saying it- the opposite of sexy.

On the other hand, Derek’s dick gave a definite twitch of interest in the darkness, so perhaps stupid was forgivable tonight. Maybe Stiles was good at this sexy thing after all. Stiles reached for the side table and pulled out the used enema bag as well as the jar of lube. “I think it’s been enough time,” he murmured. “I should be good to go.”

Derek inhaled a shuddery breath, one of trying to find control and trying to quell the lust inside him. The knowledge sent a deep twist of heat into Stiles’s gut, the wonder that he knew Derek so well. Derek would probably bathe quickly and pin him down, teasing Stiles until he begged underneath the wolf with his spit-slick mouth and-

Derek groaned as his nostrils flared, smelling Stiles’s arousal. “You’ll be the death of me,” he uttered, nearly running to the bath. Stiles bit back his own groan at seeing Derek’s ass and picturing their times before. He lay back in bed, tossing the bag to the floor and cradling the jar in his palm. More often than not, Derek took his time in these brief encounters, savoring each moment between them. Stiles would be awake until morning, he knew, and hoped Derek would keep the bruises and bites to underneath his shirt this time. Scott nearly had a heart attack when Derek and Stiles came back to the town during one of Derek’s “official” visits.

Biting his lip, Stiles pulled off his clothes, tossing them to the side. There wasn’t any point in keeping them on or offering a strip tease. He’d already wound Derek up. _Besides_ , he thought as his dick stirred awake with interest, _Derek will just tear my clothes off otherwise._

The human lay back on the bed, free hand rubbing his cock only so-slightly. He couldn’t help but be half-hard. There was also no point to getting to full hardness right away. Not when Derek would take his time.

Stiles shuddered, his cock jumping to full hardness with the memories. Fuck. He moved around on the cool, smooth sheets, trying to think of anything to will his hardness away for a little bit. Nothing worked- every thought came back to the excitement in his gut, the anticipation exploding in his veins.

Luckily, Derek came back in record time. Stiles looked over at him. “You’re still wet,” he complained. But the smell was gone, so hurray for that.

Derek stood passively, raising one eyebrow. It was the “Really, Stiles? Really?” eyebrow look. Stiles had them all memorized by now.

“I don’t want to fuck in a soppy bed,” Stiles explained.

Derek sighed and walked closer to the bed while Stiles scooted back, far away from the still-dripping man. It didn’t do much good- Derek leaned forward, hand outstretched as it made it’s way towards Stiles’s cock, hard. Automatically the human’s legs opened, a silent invitation that they both knew Derek would take.

Stiles’s eyes flew shut as a fingertip touched the base of his cock, trailing upwards towards the head, the touch steady, hard, and accusatory. “You’re going a great job dripping onto the bed yourself,” Derek murmured with half-hooded eyes.

The reply on Stiles’s tongue died as Derek crawled onto the bed with him, his body heat driving the edge of Stiles’s skin mad. Stiles adjusted his legs around Derek’s waist, hoping the man would get the message. If they fucked quickly, they both might be able to wake up, have another round, and get to breakfast and meetings on time.

Stiles opened his eyes, surprised by how close Derek’s face was to his. He let out a little yip in surprise.

Derek chuckled.

“Not fair,” Stiles groaned, and Derek kissed his neck to make up for it. The human sighed as Derek’s hands moved to his ass, kneading it gently. The wolf had left enough space between their bodies for Stiles to sneak a hand through, palm running over a familiar set of chest and abs. “Totally not fair,” he added, and Derek smirked against Stiles’s skin as he dragged his lips upward. He darted his tongue into the human’s mouth, tongue coaxing Stiles’s own to intertwine while their cocks rubbed deliciously against each other below.

 _Strange_ , Stiles thought as Derek pulled away. “Tired?” he asked, and Derek gave him a sheepish look.

“Sorry, sorry,” he began. Stiles kissed him silent, pushing on Derek’s chest as he sat up. Derek willingly allowed Stiles to lead his body to wherever Stiles wanted. Soon Stiles was straddling Derek, comfortably perched on his chest. Stiles pulled his mouth away, noting with a little bit of pride how bruised and full and shiny they looked.

“It’s okay,” Stiles assured him, sitting up. He felt Derek’s abs tighten beneath him, and Stiles’s own dick might have oozed a little more precome at the thought of what he planned to do. “I told you,” he murmured, “I might have started a bit without you.” He opened the jar of lube to show Derek what he meant, eyes twinkling as Derek took in the sight of a half-empty jar.

Derek groaned, his free hand reaching up to intertwine with Stiles’s free hand. “I can’t believe you,” he uttered. “Didn’t wait for me to _watch_?”

Stiles flashed a smile as he pressed a kiss against Derek’s chest. “Maybe I wanted to get to the main event quickly this time,” he replied. “Wanted to watch you come apart, instead of how you always dote on me.” He met Derek’s eyes before he sat up again, hands reaching back for Derek’s cock as he widened his knees.

Their eyes never left the other’s, Derek’s flashing alpha red for a moment before calming. Stiles slowly eased down. When he felt the tip of Derek’s cock press against his entrance, he paused lowering himself. Instead, he started rubbing the head around his rim, reveling in feeling the precome that would soon probably dribble down his thighs. His own cock was dribbling onto Derek’s chest, not like Derek minded.

“Stiles,” Derek groaned, throwing his head back. “Stiles, you _tease_ ,” he nearly shouted.

“What’s that? Please?” Stiles asked, faking seriousness. “Oh, Derek, you’re going to have to beg better than-“ Stiles was cut off as he rode a sudden thrust of Derek’s hips, keeping the wolf’s dick from where it wanted to go.

Derek whined, hands fisting in the bedding. “Stiles,” he pleaded.

Stiles shook his head. “Oh no,” Stiles teased, “I want to hear how much you’ve wanted this. How you probably ran here, wanting to mark me up, mark me as _yours_ -“ Stiles leaned down just a bit, “How much you like your cock in my tight, sweet channel, how hot it is inside me, how you like it when I come, how tight I am against you as I pulse around you-“

Derek let out a choked sob. Stiles let out another grin briefly. “Shh, shh, Derek, it’s okay,” he assured the wolf. “Just tell me what you want, Derek.” He rode another thrust, Derek barely concealing a whine in his throat.

“Need,” Derek began, voice low and broken, cutting off in awkward places, “Need to be inside you, Stiles. Want to feel you around me, you fucking ass-vice, need to come, to scent you, to feel you as you jerk when I hit that place inside of you, Stiles.”

“Good boy,” Stiles murmured, sinking downward. Derek gasped, fighting jumping forward at Stiles while the human took his time adjusting to the length inside him. Derek was always huge, always enough to fill Stiles up. It helped they had such long breaks in between seeing each other. It was always enough and as he felt Derek adjust his hips, angle that cock beneath him to a better place inside Stiles. He knew Derek was close.

He groaned as Derek ground his cock around inside him, occasionally pressing against that wonderful spot, shooting spikes of lust shooting through the human’s body.

If he wanted to, Stiles knew, he could do nothing and Derek would do all the work. His werewolf strength could easily allow him to fuck Stiles from this position. But Stiles didn’t want that, slowly pushing himself up and allowing the strange, empty feeling to encase him before slamming back down and seeing white as Derek’s cock aligned perfectly with his prostate.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek uttered, eyes staying red. Stiles shivered knowing Derek was close. That was the downside of their encounters, he supposed. When they were on edge, like this, they often were not long. No wonder Derek liked to drive Stiles to the brink, make him wait forever before they came. It felt too short but neither of them could really stop right now.

Face flushed, Stiles looked over the wolf again, keenly aware of Derek’s eyes on him. “In the morning,” Stiles told him. “Let’s keep going tomorrow morning.” Derek nodded his agreement and let out another moan, eyes shutting tightly as his hands went to Stiles’s hips. Stiles adjusted himself for what would come next.

Pinned down by Derek’s hands, Stiles had no choice but to take the brutish, unrelenting thrusts as Derek feverishly pounded away inside him. The human’s knees quivered, unused to holding his weight. Stiles was too bogged down in a cloud of lust to have noticed in that moment. He could only process Derek’s cock filling him up, pressing maddeningly against that spot inside him, sometimes too much, sometimes not enough. Shakily he planted his trembling hands on Derek’s chest, unable to think straight enough to hold himself up without their help.

Stiles let out a half-choked wail as Derek became particularly rough, the sensations a little too much. Yet his body craved more, as he met each of Derek’s thrusts with his hips, panting. “Fuck, Derek,” he breathed, “Just like that, fuck, Derek.” He swallowed, heat engulfing his body, sweat dripping down his back as his muscles trembled. “Feels so good inside of me,” Stiles added, watching as Derek’s eyes flashed red.

The light of Derek’s eyes seared through him. Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away. He took all of Derek in, noting how a bead of sweat poured down Derek’s forehead onto the covers, how his teeth were already starting to sharpen, how Derek was taking short, strong breaths underneath him to match the gasps that Stiles made each time the wolf bottomed out. The wolf’s neck was straining, his eyes on Stiles, and Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes unfocused, slamming in one last time, loving that he could make Derek be this undone.

Derek’s cock twitched and spasmed as hot seed poured into his ass, Derek grinding his pelvis against Stiles’s in order to try and make him stay, in some form of werewolfy possessiveness that only came out in this moment. Stiles leaned down and placed a kiss against his neck, lapping up the sweat he found there and trying to place his own hickey. He’d learned by now Derek loved being marked as much as he liked marking but only in this afterglow. Derek didn’t trust Stiles ever since the human had left a hickey for an official assembly to see.

Stiles reached down between them, bringing a hand to his own weeping cock, climax close. He groaned needily between them, trying hard to keep from panting and puffing in Derek’s ear, but admittedly he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

One of Derek’s hands trailed from his hip to his cock, knocking Stiles’s hands away. Allowing himself to pant, he murmured, “That’s good, Derek. Just like that, fuck-“ He thrust his hips into Derek’s tight grip, impaling himself each time on the recoil on Derek’s softening cock. “Fuck, it’s so good, Derek,” Stiles continued, like a beast in heat, unable to tear choose between fucking into Derek’s grip or rubbing Derek’s cock inside him. The human’s hips thrust and thrust again, eyes watching his partner through a fog as Derek’s body just took all of Stiles’s weight slamming into him. Pleas spilled from Stiles’s lips as he felt the familiar build of orgasm inside of him.

Then he was coming, balls tight as he splattered over Derek’s abs and wrists. Derek fell out of him, leaving him empty but satiated. The human collapsed onto the wolf, nuzzling the mark he’d left while Derek was completely out of it. “’S good,” Stiles reported. “Would fuck again.”

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know Derek was rolling his. “I’m glad,” Derek uttered gruffly, turning them over and pinning Stiles to the bed. The wolf nuzzled his neck, beard scratching the side as Derek kissed him up and down. There was no heat behind the kisses, nothing but adoration and a soft sort of love Derek tended to show either when Stiles was sick, or when he had just come. Really, whenever he thought Stiles needed tending to, because…

Well, because he…

It was something Derek felt he needed to do, after events that Stiles refused to think about in this moment, thank you very much. Stiles reached up a hand to his neck. “As much as I love cuddles,” he began.

Derek groaned. “Wait,” Derek demanded, kissing underneath his jaw lazily, sloppily. Stiles waited all of one second. Derek’s “wait”s turned into either second winds or all-night body worship. Not that Stiles minded, but they had work to do in the morning.

“Cleanup,” Stiles whined. “Cuddles after cleanup. Then sleep after cuddles, we have work tomorrow.”

Derek groaned, kisses stopping. “We could skip,” he suggested unhelpfully. Stiles made to move, staring at the pillows behind Derek’s feet. The suggestion was tempting.

“No,” Stiles decided, “Scott would get eaten alive without me. Someone would ask about our military or economics and Scott doesn’t know how to say anything diplomatically. He’d give away all of our secrets with his puppy-dog eyes of his.” He winced as he thought about it.

Derek sighed, a wordless admission of Stiles’s correctness. “Want me to carry you to the bath?” he asked. When Stiles made grabby hands he sighed again and picked up Stiles wordlessly. He carried the human like he would a baby, supporting Stiles’s butt while Stiles clung to the wolf’s neck.

“We made the bed wet,” Stiles observed as Derek used his magical alpha-eyes to see in the dark, walking out of the bedroom. Come sloshed around inside the human and Stiles tried to squeeze his hole shut, as hard as he could, hoping none would come out until they made it to the bath.

Derek took another step and Stiles quivered. Derek sighed, turning to press his mouth against Stiles’s ear. “You made my leg wet just now,” he commented cheekily. Stiles flushed in embarrassment.

“I can’t help that,” Stiles said, turning his head and whacking their faces together. Luckily Derek had been expecting the movement and didn’t drop the human. He still moved forward, chuckling as Stiles sputtered excuses. “You have a lot of jizz! Like _oceans_ of spunk. Where do you think it’s going to go? It’s not like it stays inside of me to make magical little werewolf babies!”

His eyes adjusted to the light of the bath hall, covered in long lamps to light their way. The shadows flickered behind them, soft and warm. Good feelings here, he noted. Only warm feelings here, with Derek wrapped around him.

Derek set Stiles down in the room, moving to get buckets for the two of them. Stiles watched him, still squeezing his ass as shut as possible. The stone was cold beneath his feet, angled so that any poured water would lead to a drain.

“It might, you know,” Derek began.

Stiles looked up at him. “Huh?” he asked. “It might what?”

“Give you little werewolf babies,” Derek continued, his face looking away from Stiles as he filled the buckets with water. “Alphas… there’s a historical record of it happening between an alpha and his mate, when both are men.”

Stiles immediately thought back to all of his research as one had moved to cradle his stomach. No way. What would that do to their packs? How could he be a father right now? That wasn’t even… that wasn’t even biologically possible, was it? He hadn’t read that in any of the histories!

And… a baby, part him and part Derek, Stiles squeezed his ass a little tighter. A baby that would be a unification of their packs, a pretty profound sign of their love, something both his and Derek’s, growing soft and warm in his belly, a _family_.

But that was it’s own set of problems- who would take care of it? Which pack would it belong to in the future? He and Derek went _weeks_ without seeing each other, how could they try to have a baby?

Stiles found his voice, high and frantic. “Why didn’t you tell me, Derek? I can’t just go pop out babies! We should have been using…“ He trailed off, noting the way Derek’s shoulders were shaking.

Oh no. No way.

That _bastard_.

Stiles glared liquid fury at the Hale Prince. “I hate you,” he announced a little too loudly, walking over and snatching a full bucket away from the laughing alpha. He walked back to a wash station, nothing more than a box holding soap. “Werewolf baby nonsense. Pranking _me,_ ” he added, the real offense spoken in the air.

Derek wiped away a tear. “Got you,” he admitted and moved over to sit next to Stiles.

Stiles pointedly looked away from the _lying liar_ , turning around so he wouldn’t even accidentally see the wolf. Lying to him about werewolf babies. Making Stiles worry about nonsense. 

It was only then that Stiles heard the slow intake of breath. _Shit._ It was too late to realize that he’d exposed his back to the wolf, his back covered in deep scars that Derek never tried to see, never tried to touch. Derek went quiet, turning away.

“Derek,” Stiles began, but Derek was too busy washing to listen, vigorously scrubbing himself down with soap. Stiles swallowed, bumping against Derek’s shoulder affectionately and grabbing Derek’s wrist, forcing him to listen. “I’m not angry.” He said the words slowly, knowing Derek would be listening attentively to his heartbeat. “Do I smell angry?”

“No,” Derek admitted softly, “But-“

Stiles leaned up and kissed him on the side of his lips, coming back down and stealing Derek’s soap as he started scrubbing his own body. “Your only offense was that you _lied_ to me. About werewolf _babies_ ,” he continued lightheartedly. Derek was nodding along, finally able to look at Stiles again. He looked stoic, but Stiles knew he was trying to keep the hurt from his face.

“Werewolf babies,” Stiles muttered again, and Derek took his soap back with a swift movement. “Hey!”

“You have your own,” Derek retorted, taking a little too long to scrub his abs, leaning back to make sure Stiles could see them extended. Stiles poked him in the stomach.

“Quite an interesting lotion you’ve got there,” he grinned, running his hands up and down what was left for his come splashed on Derek’s chest. Derek swatted his hand away as he kept sudsing. “Bet it’s all the rage back at the palace. Bet you bathe in it every day, covered in-“

Derek’s eyes were glowing red. _Oh. Werewolf arousal thing_. Stiles swallowed, continuing, noting how Derek’s half-hard cock _(again, why again, damn werewolf refractory periods_ ) was bobbing between the wolf’s legs. “Covered my scent,” Stiles finished. “Love that it’s only for you,” he continued, his hand trailing lower, past the wet trail of hair that encircled Derek’s heavy member.

“What happened to sleeping?” Derek asked him, hissing as Stiles reached around his length, the cock heavy and almost burning to the touch. Normally he might go down on Derek like this, taking his time and licking that length up and down until finally sucking and maybe choking on it, but it _had_ just been in his ass. So handjobs it was.

For tonight, anyway.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles replied coolly, moving around until he was perched between Derek’s legs. Derek sighed and lifted his hips a little, doing some weird sort of reverse-plank thing that Stiles could only dream of doing. He took his free hand and weighed Derek’s balls before rolling them around in his hands. They were always big and heavy and great to play with. “No wonder I’ve been leaking,” Stiles commented at Derek, knowing Derek might not bother with a response. “I think they’ve gotten bigger.”

Derek gave a hitched breath, but didn’t answer. Stiles continued lazily stroking up and down, watching as Derek’s cock reddened and the vein along the left side became more and more predominant. It was like watching something spring to life via magic. The wolf groaned beneath him, abs beginning to shake as Stiles moved his hand gently up and down, fingers ghosting over Derek’s cock.

Derek fell back onto his elbows. “Damnit Stiles,” he uttered.

“Nah,” Stiles replied. “I like you like this. All spread out and open for me,” he continued. “Giving me complete access.” He trailed a finger back up Derek’s length, swirling it around the head of his cock, playing with the dribbles of precome leaking out.

Stiles squeezed Derek’s balls softly with his other hand, lifting them up and noting how dark the hair looked around them. And Derek’s thighs, too, he realized as he turned his head, taking his hand off Derek’s balls to grab onto one of those thick thighs, fingertips running through his dark hair.

The thigh trembled a bit underneath him, but Derek managed to hold still. Fingers united to form a grip as he ran a loosened hand over Derek’s cock, not near tight enough for his lover to enjoy it, but enough to tease him, to keep him on edge. Derek’s hips twitched as they tried to fuck into his hand.

Stiles patted his leg and Derek calmed, sucking in air from the other side. “Good boy,” Stiles told him, and Derek’s hips twitched ever so slightly again.

As a reward, Stiles tightened his grip, increasing the friction of his hand, making this quick and fast. “My mouth’s right here, Derek,” Stiles continued, knowing the wolf couldn’t see him, but as he breathed over the head of Derek’s cock he could see the body twitch. “Gonna fill me up with your seed? Or maybe mark all over my face, yeah? So that all the other wolves know exactly who I belong with? I’m waiting, Derek, mouth wide open, Ahh-“

It was the ugliest sound and Stiles clamped down on it immediately. Stiles figured nobody else was watching and hoped Derek would forget about the unsexy noise that escaped past his lips. Derek’s abs twitched and Stiles braced himself for the impending orgasm, continuing to breathe, fingers tightening just a little more.

Ropes of Derek’s seed splashed across Stiles’s face, starting strong and ending weakly over Stiles’s mouth, catching on his lips. Derek released a choked sob as he released, finally making some sort of noise. Once his orgasm had finished, Derek’s hips collapsed and he fell to the floor, eyes shut tightly as bliss traveled through him.

Stiles puffed out his chest. “Stiles Stilinski, Sex God,” the human announced proudly.

Derek took a couple more breaths before replying. “Let me say my prayer of ‘Ahh’,” Derek muttered from the floor, making the exact unsexy noise Stiles had made moments earlier.

Well, Stiles would just take this in stride, knowing Derek would torment him with it for months to come. The human smirked, reaching over for a towel to clean his face off with. “You going to do that licking thing?” he asked, turning his head in offering.

Derek flopped a hand in reply, his eyes half open.

“Too tired,” Stiles vocalized for him. “Boy, what a busy night, huh?” He laughed and dipped the towel into the bucket while he kept his face towards Derek. The alpha’s eyes stayed on him as he wiped his face clean, tossing the towel to the side when he finished.

“Clean enough yet?” he asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the wolf. Derek just gave a pitiful thumbs up, not bothering to move. Stiles smacked his lazy wolf with the towel. “Helpful.”

Derek grunted in response.

Sighing, Stiles picked up the towel and began washing the rest of Derek. Patiently he  cleaned come off the alpha’s abs or his cock, watching contentedly as Derek fell into a light sleep. Derek had probably been running a good portion of the day. It was a two and a half day run for wolves from the Palace in Hale territory.

The human bit his lip to remind himself not to say anything snarky, gazing fondly on the wolf somewhere stuck between sleep and awake. The wolf looked so peaceful, lying on the cold tile of the bath. Stiles had looked forward to maybe both of them sitting in the clean water and talking, but it was clear that wouldn’t be happening tonight. Gently, Stiles rinsed both of them off with the warm water, making sure no soapsuds were left to either of them.

Derek slept through that, as well.

Stiles returned the buckets to their original position before returning to Derek. He leaned down and poked the side of Derek’s face with his finger, smiling as Derek frowned sleepily. “Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“Floor is comfy,” Derek sourly managed. To his credit, he groggily sat back up without any more fuss. “No clothes,” he realized, looking up at his lover. Stiles shrugged.

“Well, we’re not going back to _my_ bed. I think Scott’s is the closest one. Whatever.” Stiles stretched a little, the feeling of sleep washing over him. Derek’s exhaustion was contagious.

Derek groaned as he stood up, looking around sleepily. “You want me to sleep in your alpha’s _bed_?” he asked. When Stiles shrugged he shook his head in surrender. Stiles wasn’t familiar with this part of the wolf instinct but Scott wasn’t using that bed, and it was nicer than his cold, rain-soaked and lubricated and dried-come stained nightmare back in his room.

He took Derek’s forearm and led him into Scott’s room, letting go of Derek long enough to pull back the covers. Derek let Stiles clamber into the bed first, following close behind and throwing the covers dramatically over their faces. Gently Stiles lowered the blankets back down over his face, reaching for where he knew Derek’s hand would be.

“Derek?” he asked softly in the night, light no longer with them.

Derek groaned his response, not wanting to speak.

“It’s good to see you,” Stiles whispered, curling into the other man’s chest. “Even when you say stupid things like ‘ass-vice’.”

“Ahh,” was the only retort Derek needed.

Derek wrapped his arms around the human’s back gently, cautiously. Stiles wiggled a bit more, making himself comfortable in Derek’s arms, reassuring the wolf that all was right in this moment. Then he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, joining Derek in slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not the planned sequel I have! I just challenged myself to write fluff. It still turned political-drama-y, but it is nice. I needed something nice, and this did well as an outlet. :)
> 
> Also, I am not dead and I continue to plan to write things for the teen wolf fandom! I now have a tumblr, which is mostly updates to fics so you know I am not dead (I tend to go silent for weeks at a time otherwise). http://deltaimmortal.tumblr.com I may change the content about the fandom, but for now, meh. It's nice to have a record of all the things I'm doing, and keep myself accountable for writing fics in the future.


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